


The Red Oni

by FeckedSpectrum



Category: Kamisama Hajimemashita | Kamisama Kiss
Genre: Fairy Tale Retellings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 20:06:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3353636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeckedSpectrum/pseuds/FeckedSpectrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You said, “Love, for you,<br/>                          is larger than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’s <br/>                                    terrifying. No one<br/>  will ever want to sleep with you.”</p>
<p>-Richard Siken</p>
<p>What happens to a yokai when the one they love changes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Red Oni

_“Brother,” he called to a turned back and a mind farther away than the blue oni's gaze. The smaller creatures were calling to each other, screaming and turning their small heels in the dust. “Brother,” the red oni called again, and again had no reply._

_His brother was dying._

*

The woman must be a noble person, with how little time she spared from his bedside. She cooed on about useless things that he tried to seem interested in. It was easy enough to slip inside the human boy's skin, but now he had to shield it with imitation of the boy himself. There was a dead father, a rich business, and a university he had to pretend he knew everything about. He was still unwell enough that the woman forgave his blank stares as weariness.

“I brought your textbooks in your favorite subjects to keep you entertained when I'm not here. The TV only has four basic channels, so nothing's ever on.”

He stared at the books, probably giving away more confusion than he should. Not only did he have to pretend to lead an entirely different life, but now he had to learn how to read. He always had the stupid fox and quivering little demons for such uninteresting things.

“Honestly, I had no idea someone could write so many books about economics. With your father's collection and yours, I could probably make a stack taller than the house.”

What did that word even mean? Economics. It wouldn't give him a single clue. And why did they have to have so many books? Books are completely useless.

“Are you alright, Kirihito?” the woman asked, her unnaturally pretty face marred with new lines on her brow. “You're more quiet than usual.”

“I'm fine,” he answered, nearly stumbling through his words. “...mother. I didn't sleep well last night.”

“The nurse said you were having night terrors,” she whispered, voice oddly soft as that worried look remained on her face. She patted his hand, gentle for the bandages still wrapped around it.

Night terrors were not as interesting as he originally thought. They weren't little demons he could crush in a fist, they were bouts of screaming while he slept. It annoyed the nurse a lot, but he couldn't recall anything before waking up, only remembering the faint smell of fox fire.

“She said doing something 30 minutes before you go to sleep would help. Something to keep your mind off of what happened. I could read to you, like I did when you were little. I could try to understand finance,” she finally chuckled, breaking that horrible expression at last.

“I would like that, mother,” he answered, finally getting that weak smile to blossom across her face. Perhaps it would make her stop worrying so much.

*

_“I want to play a game,” the blue oni said, still staring at the boar carcass he was cleaning._

_“Your games are usually fun,” the red oni answered, leaning forward, closer to the fire and closer to his brother. He was getting too excited for every word his brother willingly put forth, as they were so rare._

_“You close your eyes and face a tree. When your back is turned, I can move towards you, but when you turn to face me, I have to stop.” The ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “I'm not sure why, but it seems to be a fun game.”_

_“The humans play it,” the red oni grumbled. Those humans that had stolen his brother. Did they leave any more than a shell of himself? Had they taken his brother's soul and filled the body with foolish games and whimsies? “I won't play such a stupid game.”_

_He stalked off into the woods, leaving his brother with their supper and the fire. He wouldn't face his brother tonight._

_Could he ever find his brother again?_

*

Blood had never seemed so meaningless as it did now, spread up his arms with streaks and swirls.

What was this woman to Tomoe? What could such a boring, squealing thing mean to his brother?

She was a temptress filled with treacherous spells to lure his brother away. Now she was as pale as the snow, but for the color staining her clothes.

His brother approached. Was it his brother? Was it a shell full of the witch's magic, her best little puppet whittled and carved to taunt him?

His brother was crying, touching that woman's hand. He begged him to laugh it off. He was free of the spell, wasn't he? He was still his brother, wasn't he?

He didn't have anyone else, did he?

*

_The red oni frowned over the long stretch of blood flowing from his brother's arm. His own blood boiled, torn between mending the arm – as he was doing – and burning that village down – as he wanted to do._

_His brother still sat cross-legged, staring blankly into their fire. He hadn't spoken in days, but the red oni knew how he was wounded. The humans found him, and hurt him. They threw their spears and rocks like the brave human warriors they wanted to become, desiring his brother's head to stake on their gates and his teeth to adorn their necks._

_His brother would still watch them. He had nothing left to bring him joy, his heart already carved out of his chest by the human's daggers._

_“I have a game I want to play, brother.”_

*

His head ached, his ribs ached. He felt like everything inside his body had been sucked out and replaced with aches.

There was someone watching over his agony though, on the other side of the steel bars. Tobacco smoke lingered faintly in the air.

“This is somewhat familiar.”

He chuckled, despite the nausea rising to the back of his mouth after. “You said you didn't remember the time we first met.”

“I remember a little,” the fox answered, fussing with his pipe as if he was completely disinterested in the bloody body of an immortal only a few feet away from him. “Nanami doesn't want you to die.”

“I don't really care either way.”

He finally got the fox to look at him properly, lavender eyes searing through him. How long had it been since he got that look?

_“_ Those things I took from you, when I wanted you to come see me,” Akura-ou wheezed, frustratingly weak. How could something so simple as talking exhaust him? “I can't bring them back, can I?”

“Yukiji was never a thing,” the fox growled.

“Can't bring her back,” the oni mused. “I was wrong, wasn't I? I hurt you when I took them away. I never had anything taken away from me before you...” Before the fox left. Before he lost his body. Before he lost his mother.

Before he gave his immortality away for the few short years he could return to Nanami.

“What was I to you before that?” he asked, unable to look at the fox properly. The silence drew on and he caught the glow of a thriving ember, dancing red on the stone walls. He had stolen a pipe on a whim and taught the fox how to light it so many centuries ago. The boy was probably still too young to learn, but he had taught him too many dark and dangerous things before that point.

“You were my brother. My comrade. My shield,” Tomoe answered. “My favorite sound was your laugh.”

He chuckled without much cheer. “It was a form of love, wasn't it? That's what it was for me.”

The fox didn't answer. Akura-ou turned his head, trying to find the boy's thoughts, find his eyes.

The fox was already too far away.

**Author's Note:**

> A play on the story of the Blue Oni and the Red Oni, which I see as an influence in Tomoe and Akura-ou's relationship. When I watched the 5th episode of season two, while Mikage was waxing on about the love that yokai have for their partners, I finally realized that the divide between Tomoe and Akura-ou isn't just a painful loss by itself. Even if Akura-ou didn't romantically love Tomoe, it's implied he loved him in some way. And losing the person that you love is the most painful thing a yokai can experience.


End file.
